


BITE

by wandering_gypsy_feet



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Biker AU, F/M, Modern AU, sansan, sansan fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-24 19:27:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20363839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wandering_gypsy_feet/pseuds/wandering_gypsy_feet
Summary: Sansa sent Sandor off to hunt Lions with her sister and trusted that he would come home to her. When he did, both of them have something to tell the other - and show.Missing chapter from The Girl from the North Country, better known as the smut scene!





	BITE

**Author's Note:**

> AND THEN YOU GUYS SAID LET THERE BE SEX
> 
> SO I WROTE SEX
> 
> also title is a troy sivan song plz enjoy

“You look like mom.” Bran’s soft voice startled Sansa out of her thoughts.

“I do?” she looked at him in alarm. He crossed the darkened living room, lit only by the full moon and the stars outside.

“Yeah.” he came to sit across from her and Sansa offered him her rapidly cooling mug of tea, if a little slowly.

“Not sure if that’s a compliment,” she remarked, when it became clear that he wasn’t going to explain himself further to her. He stared out the window and Sansa looked too, automatically. She’d chosen this spot since it had the best view of Wnterfell’s long, winding driveway.

“Do you remember that she use to do this? For dad?” he reminded her and Sansa felt her mouth twitch. Not a comparison she loved, but one that she could see being made. She’d purposely been avoiding that train of thought all night, since she’d made her tea and taken up her vigil to wait for Sandor and Arya to finally come home.

“I remember that she use to be way more stressed. I am calm,” she informed him, leaning over and giving the tea mug a little tap as if to prove her point.

“Isn’t that because Dr. Luwin said to keep calm for your stitches and head?” Bran gave her a smirk, finishing the last dregs of the tea and Sansa rolled her eyes.

“I’m just naturally calm. At least in comparison to the hooligans of our family.”

“Perhaps not the best yardstick.” Bran shared a look with her that conveyed that sometimes they both felt lost in the shuffle that was their family.

“Perhaps,” she relented and then let silence fall between them. She had a blanket wrapped loosely around herself, but it was an oversized one so she kicked some of it towards Bran so that he could pull it up over his knees. Nights were cool now, and she wondered if Sandor had warm enough clothes for the ride back up into northern California and Robb’s territory.

She had heard a few things, gossip amongst the women that stopped by to see her mother, and the old guard who still came around for meals. She still tried to stay well away from the club, but she needed to know Sandor was safe and so lent a hand whenever the conversation seemed to swing in the general direction of whatever Arya and Sandor were off doing.

They’d been gone a week and a half. Catelyn and Brienne had been oh so smug the first days, thinking their plan to separate Sansa from Sandor had gone so well. But then Sandor had seemingly picked up a burner phone, and he called Sansa every night, if only to tell her goodnight and that he was safe another day. But last night he’d told her they’d caught a fish and now Arya was coming home to fillet it. Sansa clearly understood the code. He was coming back, tonight.

She looked at the grandfather clock across the room. Soon enough, the hands would tick closer and then one singular bong would ring out. It was nearly 1 in the morning, but she wasn’t sleepy. Not when she knew that any moment now, Sandor’s bike would come riding up the driveway and she would get to be back in his arms. The anticipation was killing her slowly.

“Do you want more tea?” Bran asked, ten minutes past the hour.

“I’m alright.” Sansa gave him a smile. “Why are you up anyways?”

“Ah, I don’t sleep much anyways. Can’t turn this off.” he gestured to his head with a wearisome grin and Sansa smiled sadly back. “You’re up because you’re worrying then?”

“Not worried,” she corrected quickly, “just cautious. I wanted to make sure he got home safely.”

“Ergo, you look like mom.”

“Quit bringing it up,” she complained, but didn’t fight. Between Arya telling her that she was in love with a man just like their father and Bran comparing her to their mother, it was a little bit more than Sansa was willing to take. She heard Bran’s snort of amusement even from the kitchen and rolled her eyes good-naturedly.

It was nearing 1:30 am when lights finally swung up the driveway. Sansa gasped, turning to look. Sandor.

She was up and out the front door before Bran even got off the couch. Barefoot, her oversized sweater fluttering in the breeze, and her heart in her throat, Sansa ran across the gravel and towards the lone figure parking his bike by one of the sheds. She threw herself into him at full speed and heard the grunt before he looked down at her, brown eyes sparkling in amusement.

“Hello Sansa.”

“Jory?” Sansa took a hasty step back, trying to arrange her baggy sweatshirt in a manner that hid the fact she was not wearing a bra. “I, uh, thought you, um—”

“He’s just seeing Arya back safely,” he assured her quickly. “I came to talk to your mother, but I’ll be riding out again early tomorrow, so it makes as much sense for me to stay here.”

“I’m sorry, it’s so dark, I didn’t realize…..” she trailed off, flinching. Jory just gave a little huff of laughter, patting her back.

“Your mother made the same mistake once, though drunk and at a rally. Why don’t you go back and wait inside? Cold weather for a girl with bare feet.”

“Sorry Jory,” she apologized once more before retreating, still embarrassed. As she went, she heard him chuckle and mumble something about ‘Stark women’.

“Not him?” Bran’s smile was far too smug for her liking, so she childishly stuck out her tongue.

“You would’ve thought it was him too. How was I suppose to know that Jory was coming back tonight as well?”

“Because Jory isn’t a seven foot tall towering hulk monster?” Bran pointed out and Sansa glared.

“Don’t call Sandor a hulk monster.”

“I didn’t say he was, I said Jory wasn’t.”

“Well that’s overly redundant and unnecessarily complicated, and I don’t feel that — Sandor!” she fled the house again, but this time she knew it was him. She knew with complete certainty, because as much as she disliked Bran’s description, it was spot on. Sandor towered over everyone and the second he got off the bike, Sansa rather ungracefully thew herself into his arms. He grunted but caught her and after a second, hefted her closer.

“Hi there little bird.”

“I missed you!” the tears were hot, stinging her cool cheeks. Sandor didn’t bother to put her down as he trudged back towards the house and Sansa was grateful. She didn’t want to be separated from him, not even for a moment.

“Missed you too.” Sandor had to set her down to open the door to the house, but he quickly ushered her inside. “Are you not freezing? It’s the dead of the night.”

“I’m alright,” she promised sweetly, then cast a look around her home. Bran seemed to have retreated away, so she felt no hesitation in reaching up and pulling Sandor in close to her, finally kissing him.

It was like her whole world had been righted. She hadn’t realized until he’d left just how much of her sense of safety and security was tied up in him. When he was gone, the world felt a bit harsher, a bit scarier. Sandor was her rock, and she used him to center herself. Now that he was back, her whole body felt lighter. And hotter, especially when Sandor backed her into a counter without breaking their kiss, lifting her up onto it so he could kiss her easily.

“Fucking missed you,” he told her seriously, between urgent kisses.

“Was it okay?” she asked him worriedly, running her fingers into his hair. He seemed alright, bullet hole from Arya not withstanding, but that she knew about. She was more concerned if he’d suffered anything damaging on this trip, and if it was going to tear them apart.

“You want to know who’s dead?” he pulled back and gave her a long, hard look. Sansa’s heart skipped a beat, but she already knew from the club gossip that only lower club members from the Lions had been captured; no Joffrey or Littlefinger yet.

“No,” she declared, wrapping her legs around him. “No, no I don’t care. I’m just glad you’re home safe.”

“Worried for me?” his eyes had a glint in them that didn’t just seem to be coming from the dim lights of the kitchen.

“Always,” she said fiercely and he chuckled, dropping kisses on her neck and shoulders.

“Might’ve been worried about coming back and you’d forgotten all about me,” he admitted quietly and Sansa forced him to look at her.

“You’re my soulmate,” she promised him, letting her thumb brush back and forth over his scar. “And I’m never going anywhere. Ever.”

“Fuck.” he kissed her again and when he drew back, the glint was stronger. “Sansa, let me take you to bed. Please.”

“Yes,” she whispered breathless and was promptly scooped off the counter. He carried to her room, occasionally hitting corners and door frames, cursing each time he did. Sansa tried to suppress her giggles, but it was nearly impossible. She was sure they’d wake up everyone in the house, but they made it to her bedroom without her mother or Brienne’s disapproving intervention.

“Here, little bird.” he laid her down, gently, on her bed and Sansa held up one finger before she leaned over and plugged in the twinkly lights. They were strung throughout her entire room, winding around the canopy of her bed and along the walls so that they were cast in a soft light.

“Now I can see,” she explained to him, putting both hands on his face. He watched her with something so earnest it hurt her chest, just a little.

“You want to see,” he replied, in a tone that was almost a question but not quite. Perhaps a plea. Perhaps just reassurance and so Sansa leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together briefly.

“Yes,” she promised quietly. “I see you, always, Sandor. And you see me. All of me.”

And that was the last thing she said before they started pulling each other’s clothes off in an almost frantic need.

Sansa had the more difficult end of the stick, given that Sandor was layered against the cold. All she was wearing was sweatpants and a sweatshirt, sans anything else. He had her naked in a blink, while she had his kutte, sweatshirt, flannel, long sleeve, undershirt, pants, socks, boxers, and even gloves. She only got him down to boxers and undershirt when he pulled her down to him, a bit roughly.

“You first,” he grunted, setting her in his lap, so that her back was resting against his broad chest. She sat still, a bit confused, until Sandor wrapped his arms around her and she relaxed utterly into him. He kissed her beneath her earlobe and she gave a hum of contentment. “You tell me if I go too fast.”

“Yes,” she whispered and dug her nails into his thigh when his fingers began skimming down her chest, lower and lower. “Yes, Sandor, yes, please.”

“Fuck,” she heard him mutter and then the world seemed to be drowned out in the bliss. His fingers were careful, slow, exploring her. One hand was splayed on her stomach, pressing her back into him while the other circled her clit and dipped into her once, twice, three times. She squirmed slightly, wanting more.

“Sandor, please, god, please,” she moaned.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” his breath was hot in her ear and Sansa tilted her head, in the hopes that he’d kiss her there again. “I’m taking my bloody time with you, Sansa.”

“I…. I….” she had things she wanted to tell him, but he was making focusing extremely difficult as he parted her so that he could slide two fingers up and down, spreading her wetness. “Sandor….”

“Hold still.” his grip on her tightened slightly and Sansa gave a tiny gasp as his fingers curled in her, working back and forth and sending shocks down her body. He moved them in her, never pushing any deeper, building her pleasure slowly.

“God,” she muttered, trying her best to be still like he’d ordered. She’d do just about anything he told her, if it meant that this delicious ache kept growing more and more intense.

“No, me.” he nipped her neck and Sansa stifled a shriek. He was pulsing his fingers a bit faster now, egging her on. She craved more of him and tried to push herself deeper on him, only to be stopped.

“Fuck!”

“Trust me,” he whispered, bringing the fingers back to tweak her clit. Sansa didn’t know if she wanted to struggle out of his grip at the intensity of the sensations or let herself submit entirely. Sandor held her in place and whispered in her ear about how beautiful she was, perfect and sexy and gorgeous, as well as smart, and kind, and loving, and a much better person than he’d ever be. Sansa gasped his name, and then he finally pressed something deep inside her and she broke apart in a thousand peoples.

“Sandor!” the waves of pleasure made her hips buck and jolt, but Sandor had a firm grips on her hips and made her ride it out until the end, when she went limp in his arms. He drew out of her in slowest way possible and she twitched with residual pleasure, her control of her body secondary to the warmth spreading throughout her. She twisted her head to look back at him, smiling herself when she saw the smug grin on his face.

“Missed you,” he said cheekily and once Sansa had feeling back in her lower extremities, she turned herself around to face him.

“I want to do that for you,” she told him seriously and something flickered behind his eyes.

“Are you sure?” he asked her lowly and Sansa chose to use her actions to prove herself, instead of words. She pulled off his boxers and tugged up the undershirt, throwing them both as far away as she could. Sandor’s cock rose between them and Sansa kept her eye contact with him as she reached for it and began long, smooth strokes up and down.

“I love you,” she told him seriously, “and I always will. And I want you, like I’ve never wanted anything before.”

“Sansa.” he leaned forward so that he could kiss her and she kissed him back passionately.

Sandor’s hands wound themselves up into her hair, so that it was her choice when she raised her hips above him, and her choice when she guided him into her, and her choice to sink down onto him, gasping and groaning with happiness as she stretched to be filled by him. He watched her the entire time, like he was waiting for her to grimace or flinch, but she didn’t. All she felt was a sense of completeness.

She couldn’t do much for the first moment, just adjusting to him. Sandor kept a careful watch on her, searching her face for any sign of distress. Sansa sighed and kissed him again, letting herself grind slightly on him. Sandor’s fingers dug into her scalp before they moved down to her hips and tentatively guided them into a rhythm. Sansa followed his lead, especially when it seemed like the angle of him sitting and her pressed to him was causing yet another sensation to build within her. It took them a little bit, but eventually they found a pace that seemed to work for the both of them.

“Fuck.” Sansa could feel the sweat beading on her neck, but she couldn’t be bothered to do anything but focus on herself and Sandor. The feeling between the two of them was unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. She was so sure she was heading for another orgasm, her mind was blank except for desire.

“Little bird, I….” Sandor sounded strangled and she gasped in response, tingling spreading throughout her body again. This one was less intense, but no less enjoyable and she buried her head in Sandor’s neck to stop herself from screaming. Sandor moaned and thrust up into her several times before he also relaxed. They laid together, panting slightly, catching their breath.

“That was unlike anything I’ve had before,” she informed him, after her breath came back and the haze lifted from her brain.

“You’re unlike anything before,” he muttered in reply and Sansa grinned, sliding off him. Sandor grunted and reached for her, but she slipped through his fingers and grinned over her shoulder, going to the bathroom. By the time she came back, Sandor was already snoring lightly in her bed. She crawled in beside him.

“Bored of me already?”

“No, good sex puts men to sleep.” he cracked an eyelid, smiling sleepily at her. “And I’ve spent weeks in shitty motel rooms. I’m going to bed, with you beside me.”

“Oh, deal.” she curled up, the same position as they had during so many nights on the run. Except the lack of clothes made it all the sweeter. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he replied, already half asleep again. Sansa smiled and closed her eyes, and for the first times in weeks, slept soundly next to Sandor Clegane.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I hope you guys have enjoyed this - I know I like coming back to this universe! Please leave a review, it's so appreciated.


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